


Right Place, Wrong Time

by allmylovesatonce



Category: Outlander & Related Fandoms, Outlander (TV), Outlander Series - Diana Gabaldon
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-18
Updated: 2019-05-18
Packaged: 2020-03-07 03:39:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,315
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18864955
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/allmylovesatonce/pseuds/allmylovesatonce
Summary: When Brianna travels back to save her parents, she never imagines that she might go to the wrong time.





	Right Place, Wrong Time

No matter how much her mother had told her about a journey through the stones, nothing could have prepared Brianna for the sheer overwhelmingness of it all. The sun was starting to set on her second day in the 18th century. Last night, she’d slept like a baby because she’d just been so worn out. But tonight, she didn’t think the wilderness was quite what she wanted. 

A small village was visible up ahead. Brianna checked her purse and decided she could spend some of the coins she’d collected for her journey. Surely the amount of coins she had could get her further here. She walked into the village as the sun was disappearing behind the hill. Grateful for small mercies, she noticed a tavern and ran in, not wanting to be out alone. 

The taproom was full of rowdy Scots. She looked around, wondering how far gone the men were. Brianna walked over to the bar and sought the woman’s attention. 

“Aye, can I help ye lass?” the lady asked. 

“Yes, I was hoping to inquire about a room,” Bree informed her. 

The woman was clearly taken aback by Brianna’s accent. She certainly wasn’t Scottish.  _ Well, that was only half right _ . The woman shook her head and leaned forward. “Well the rent party has taken up most of our rooms as we dinna have many to begin wi’. Let me check wi’ my husband and see if we have one to spare for ye, lass. Are ye travelling alone then?” 

Brianna froze. What should she say? Looking at all the men around the room, she wondered if she should lie and say she had a companion. It would be fairly obvious, though, when no one else showed up. She turned back to the woman, her shoulders a bit slumped. “Yes, I’m travelling alone.” 

The woman smiled kindly, reaching out and laying a hand on hers. “I’ll see what I can do. What was yer name?” 

Bree bit her lip. “My name is Brianna. Brianna Fraser.” It was the first time she’d ever called herself by her true father’s name. Conflicting feelings coursed through her. As she stood at the bar with strong Scottish accents echoing through the room, it seemed right to be a Fraser. She was going back in time to save her father’s life after all. Perhaps it was time she accepted the Fraser name. 

The woman had walked away, no doubt to find her a room. Left alone, Brianna turned to observe the men in the room. As a former history student, this was the best way she could ever learn. She felt a pang of regret thinking of the joy Frank Randall would have had at being able to actually be a part of history and get to see it first hand. 

A loud laugh rang out from a crowded table, drawing Brianna’s attention. She glanced over to see a man standing, bending down as he dramatically told a story. He smiled widely, showing two missing front teeth. The man landed some punchline, making the table erupt again as he bent his head back in laughter. She watched as a tall red headed man stood up, clapping another man on the back. Before looking at his face, Brianna was distracted by his kilt. 

_ Kilt? _ Bree had learned a lot about the changes in Scottish life after the Rising from her father’s books. And she knew for a fact that the wearing of tartan was banned after the destruction of Culloden. These men must have been very brazen to be openly wearing their kilts again. It was only 20-some years after the destruction. 

Bree looked about the room, noticing that nearly every man was wearing a kilt. “But how?” she whispered to herself. Her question was pushed back out of her head as she continued to scan the room. At the bottom of the stairs was a woman with brown curly hair she’d recognize anywhere. Forgetting where she was, she sprinted through the room and threw herself into the arms of her mother.

“Mama!” she cried, holding her tightly. It had been too long. “Oh my God, Mama, I’m so glad to see you!” She pulled back and grasped her mother’s arms. “How are you here? I thought you’d be in North Carolina. I never dreamed I’d find you already.” 

Her mother stared at her in confusion. “I’m sorry, what?” 

“It’s me, Brianna. Goodness, I wouldn’t think you’d have been gone that long as to forget that,” she joked. The confusion on her mother’s face never faded as the woman stared at her. It was because of that realization that Brianna looked closer. Yes, it was her mother, but it was not the same version of her mother she had been expecting. “Oh fuck,” she whispered to herself. 

Slowly, her hands dropped from her mother’s arms as horror crashed through her. Bree looked back to the taproom. The men were all in kilts. She took in her mother. The woman before her was easily 20 years younger. “It’s the wrong time,” she breathed. 

“Wait, what did you say?” Claire asked, stepping closer to her, curiosity clear on her face. 

“Nothing,” Brianna denied. “I need to go.” 

“No!” Claire cried, gripping Brianna’s arms as she’d just done before. “Don’t go. Tell me what you mean.” 

Brianna stared back at her mother almost concerned by the intense look upon her face. “I can’t,” she whispered. “Please let go. I need to leave.” 

“It’s night. It may not be full dark, but you shouldn’t be going anywhere alone. Especially as a woman,” Claire reminded her. She was mothering her before the woman had even become a mother. Bree couldn’t help but breathe out a laugh. 

“I can’t stay here.” 

“Please do. I think we should talk,” Claire insisted. “You said you were trying to find me. Why?” Brianna shook her head. “There’s something about you,” Claire said, eyeing her critically. “There’s something familiar about you but I can’t quite decide what it is.” 

“I’m sure it’s nothing,” Brianna quickly replied. “I think I just have one of those faces.” 

“No, it’s not that. You look familiar. Like someone I’ve seen before.” 

Brianna needed to get away, but before she left, she had to know one thing. “Look, I can’t tell you anything. But I do ask that you give me one small piece of information. I know it’s going to sound odd, but I’m hoping that since it’s  _ you _ I’m asking, you’ll know  _ why _ I’m asking.” Claire looked confused again, but encouraged her to continue. “What year is it?” 

Claire’s mouth dropped open. She stepped closer to Brianna, whispering. “It’s 1743.” 

Bree put her hands over her face. “How did I mess this up? I did what you...I thought of you and Jam-” she cut herself off, not wanting to reveal too much of the future to her mother. 

“Wait, what did you say? Me and…who?” Claire looked desperate for information. 

“I can’t tell you.” Brianna was about to continue when she felt someone approaching from behind her. 

“Mistress Beauchamp, is everything alright?” a voice said over her right shoulder as the man stepped closer. 

Claire watched as he approached, too many emotions crossing her glass face.  _ Horror. Confusion. Epiphanies. _ Then she looked back at Brianna and only one emotion crossed her face.  _ Recognition. _

Claire swallowed past the lump in her throat as she steeled herself. “Everything’s fine, Jamie.” Brianna couldn’t help but turn and look upon her father for the first time. He was staring at Claire, clearly trying to make sure she was indeed fine. But the moment he turned his head to look at Brianna, she noticed the similarities immediately. The hair was obvious enough, but the comparisons didn’t stop there. His eyes were just the same as hers. His viking features were the same she saw on herself each time she looked in a mirror. 

Brianna glanced back at Claire. She was clearly making the same comparisons between her and the man who would be her father. Bree chanced another look at her father, realizing that if it was 1743, they were approximately the same age. 

“Excuse me, Mistress Fraser,” the woman from the bar called to her from the steps. All eyes flashed to the woman. “I’m afraid we are all out of rooms.” 

Brianna sighed in relief. At last she had a legitimate excuse to leave. “Thank you so much for looking into it. I’ll be off then.” 

“No!” Claire cried, grabbing onto her just as she had before. “It’s fine, you can share my room with me. It would be nice to have the company.” 

“Are ye sure, Sassenach? Ye dinna even ken this lass,” Jamie asked, staring at Bree. 

“Yes, I’m sure. I certainly can’t let her go out all alone in search of somewhere else to stay. Can I?” Claire asked, the two of them making eye contact. 

Jamie seemed unsure but shrugged. It seemed he already knew Claire would do whatever she wanted to. Brianna was unprepared when his attention turned back to her. “Lass, did I mishear or did that woman address ye as Fraser?” 

A lump formed in Bree’s throat. The comparison was already there. It was too obvious how much they resembled the other. And having been called “Fraser” was too much. How could she lie? From her mother’s stories, she imagined that Jamie Fraser would certainly know all the members of his family. Particularly ones that would be close enough to look so similar. 

Brianna cleared her throat. “Yes, that’s what she said.” 

Jamie’s eyes narrowed as he watched her. Surely he was realizing the similarities as well. He was about to speak when her mother interrupted him. 

“Look, why don’t you tell Dougal that I was very tired from today’s travels and I’ll be retiring early,” Claire encouraged him, tightening her grip on Brianna’s wrist. 

“Ye think he’ll allow ye to do that?” Jamie asked with a scoff. 

“I don’t much care what Dougal thinks,” Claire retorted. “Besides, I’ll have a witness as to where I am,” she said, pointing to Brianna. “I’ve heard his speech about fifteen times at this point. I think it should be fine if I miss just the one.” 

Jamie nodded, eyeing the both of them. “Aye, I’ll let him know.” Claire turned to walk up the stairs, dragging Brianna with her. “But Sassenach,” Jamie called. Claire stopped and looked back at him. He had a soft, caring look on his face as he shifted his glance between the two of them. “Be careful,” he urged. Bree looked back at her mother to see a similar soft expression. She nodded before she started to walk up the stairs with Brianna in tow. 

They were walking down the hall towards Claire’s room when they met another person. “And where do ye think ye’re headed?” the man asked. 

Claire glared at him, pushing Brianna behind her. “I’m afraid I’ll be missing your dramatics this evening, Dougal. This girl needs a place to sleep and I’ve offered her lodging in my room. She needs medical tending and as a healer, you know I can’t refuse. I’m sure it will do for me to miss just the one evening speech, right?” Claire leveled her gaze, daring him to drag her back downstairs. Dougal narrowed his eyes at her. “You can always just bring Jamie’s shirt up to me when it needs mending.” 

Dougal scoffed as he moved to walk past Claire. He stole a glimpse at Brianna and froze. Claire looked back, concerned at Dougal. “Is something the matter?” Brianna risked. 

“Mary, Michael, and Bride!” Dougal breathed. “Ye canna be.” 

“Can’t be what?” Claire asked. 

“This lass looks just like…” Dougal shook his head, blinking, “just like my sister, Ellen.” 

Claire and Brianna both stared at Dougal, neither quite knowing how to reply. Claire’s grip on Brianna’s wrist tightened slightly before relaxing. “Well we should be going,” she said, urging Brianna away from Dougal Mackenzie. 

Claire opened the door to her room and ushered Bree inside. She sat down on the bed, curious as to what her mother was going to do next. Claire paced in front of the fire, shaking her head. Finally she stopped and turned to Brianna. “Okay, tell me everything.” 

“No.” 

Claire gaped at her. “No? Why not?” 

“Because if I tell you everything,” Brianna began, “I don’t know what things will change. I can’t risk it.” 

Claire huffed. “Fine.” She stared at Brianna, her eyes narrowing slightly. “But you called me Mama. So that means you’re my daughter, right?” 

Brianna wanted so badly to just stay silent. She shouldn’t confess to anything. From her mother’s stories, she knew that at this point in her mother’s life, Claire believed she was barren. 

“Please just answer me,” Claire implored. “I understand that you’re trying to not fuck with history or timelines or whatever, but please just tell me. I need to know what’s going on.” 

Bree sighed. “Fine, yes. I’m your daughter.” 

Claire stared at her in disbelief. “I have so many questions.” 

Bree laid back on Claire’s bed and groaned. “I can’t answer them!” 

“I know, I know,” Claire said, waving her hand. “Okay, I need to know this. Are you a...traveler?” Brianna sat back up, forcing her mother to be more specific. “Through the stones.” Swallowing harshly, Brianna nodded. “So it’s possible to go back?” Claire asked. 

“Yes,” Bree whispered. 

Claire’s eyes lit up, a look of pure joy on her face. Bree almost wanted to ask the date. She knew the day Jamie and Claire had been married. How soon would her parents enter their arranged marriage that formed into some epic love that her mother could never get over? 

“Wait, why were you looking for me?” Claire said, focusing back on Brianna. “You said you found me.” 

“I can’t tell you that.” 

“Well why not?” 

“Because the story of me looking for you would give you knowledge that would change my entire life,” Brianna told her mother. “And I don’t know what sort of ripples would happen to all of us if that happened.” 

Claire sighed, nodding as she began pacing again. “Okay, well how about this, what year did you come from?” 

“Nope. Can’t say that.” 

Claire groaned loudly. “Oh come on!” She stopped pacing again, looking closely at Bree. “This is insane. I don’t even know how this would happen. I can’t have children.” Her hand hovered over her stomach. 

“Well, actually you can,” Brianna said with a tense smile. “The problem...wasn’t with you.” Bree grimaced, fearing she’d said too much. 

“You mean it was with Frank?” Claire asked. “I can’t have kids with Frank?” 

Bree ran a hand down her face, deeply unsure of how much to say. “Is that a shock? I mean, look at me. Do I look like Frank?” 

Claire bit her lip. “No. No, you look like Jamie.” She shook her head, breathing out a confused laugh. “But how the hell would that happen?” 

“I think you know how that happens. You taught me all about it,” Brianna joked. Claire turned and glared at her. “Sorry.” 

“So if you didn’t mean to come here,” Claire continued, “What year were you trying to get to?” 

“Can’t tell you that either.” 

“You can’t seem to tell me much of anything,” Claire complained. “This is so frustrating.” 

“I’m sorry. You understand why, though, right? I mean, I never expected I was in the wrong year. If I’d known you were my mother but not at the right age, I’d have avoided you. I’d have run back to the stones to try again.” She sighed to herself. “Which is I guess what I’ll have to do.” 

“Wait,” Claire said, holding up a hand. “You came through the stones.” 

“We already discussed that.” 

“But when? How far away are they? I could go with you!” Claire explained, excitement on her face. 

“I’m sorry, but no, you can’t,” Bree said, standing up. “You can’t come with me.” 

“Why?” 

“Because my entire life depends on you staying here. If you come back with me right now, I won’t be born,” Bree explained. 

Claire’s hand returned to her stomach. “You’re right.” She shook her head, a pained look crossing her face. “But I don’t know how to stay. I need to get back to the stones.” 

“Look, all I can say, is that sooner than you think, it’ll be easier,” Brianna said, trying to reassure her mother. 

“When were you born?” Claire pressed. 

“Come on, you know I can’t tell you that,” Bree sighed. She looked over and spied a bottle of whisky on the table by the window. A grin formed on her face. “Here’s the plan, I’ll tell you that and maybe one or two other things, but you have to do something in return.” 

“What’s that?” 

“Get blind drunk so that this all just seems like a weird dream tomorrow,” Brianna explained, holding up the bottle. 

“That’s the only way you’ll tell me?” Claire asked, eyeing her suspiciously. 

“Yep.” 

Claire agreed quickly, downing a few glasses of whisky with a scary amount of ease. “Okay, when were you born?” 

“On the off chance you do remember,” Bree said, pushing another glass to her, “I’m not going to tell you the actual year. But it’s in three years.” 

Claire drained another glass, pushing it back to Brianna to fill again. “Why Jamie?” 

“What?” 

“Why is he your father?” Claire asked, her eyes glassy. 

Brianna took a deep breath, stealing a sip of whisky for herself. “Because you love him.” 

Claire looked back up at Brianna, a vulnerable look on her face. She seemed scared and yet also had a look of understanding. “Okay,” she replied. Claire watched Bree for a long moment. “How long has it been since you’ve last seen me?” 

Tears formed in Bree’s eyes faster than she expected. “Almost three years.” 

Claire looked like she had tears in her eyes as well, disbelief covering her face. “How? How did I let that happen? You’re my daughter.” 

Brianna shrugged, a small smile on her face as tears leaked out of her eyes. “Because the whole world changed. Everything you knew got flipped on its head. And there was a clear choice for you to make. You didn’t want to make it. You were scared. But I told you to do it. I told you I could manage. And it’s been hard at times, but I have managed. I’ve missed you like crazy. But I feel confident that you’re happy.” She wiped a tear away. “I just wish I’d gotten the right year so I could know for sure.” Bree pushed another glass at her mother. “Now drink up. I know you have a startlingly strong tolerance for alcohol.” 

Claire released a watery laugh as she accepted another glass from Brianna. “I wish you would allow me to remember this.” She smiled as she looked at her daughter. “It seems like I got a good one.” 

Bree felt more tears fall as she shook her head. She reached out and grabbed her mother’s hands. “No, Mama, I was the one who got a good one.” 

* * *

The sun hadn’t yet risen when Brianna moved to sneak from her mother’s room. Surely everyone else at the tavern would still be asleep. She fastened her cloak again, and turned to take one more look at her mother. If all went well, Brianna would get to see her again soon. It would be even more exciting to see the version of her mother that remembered her. Standing by the door, she almost couldn’t make herself leave. “So much is about to happen for you,” Bree whispered. “I hope it’s as great as you said it was. You deserve that.” 

She crept from the room, tiptoeing down the stairs, hoping to cross the taproom and disappear into the dawn. But someone else had other plans. 

“Where are ye headed lass?” 

Brianna jumped, turning to see her father approaching her. “Out.” 

He rolled his eyes and stared at her, prompting her to continue. “Where?” 

Bree took a deep breath. “Likely Inverness.” 

“That’s easily two days away,” he informed her. 

“I know that,” Brianna replied. 

“A lass such as yerself shouldna be travelling alone. Tis dangerous,” he reminded. 

“I got here on my own,” Bree said, puffing out her chest some. 

“It’s still dangerous.” 

“I’ll be okay,” she replied, turning to leave. 

“Do ye need anything?” he asked, stopping her in her tracks. “A horse, perhaps? Food?” 

Brianna turned back to look at him. “Why would you offer me that? You don’t even know me.” 

His eyes lingered on her for a long moment. “Only takes but one look at ye to ken ye’re my kin. I canna say who ye are, but I ken that much.” 

Bree smiled, hoping 20 years had not changed the man too much. She was rather fond of this one. “I can’t say who I am either, but you’re correct.” She chanced a glance up towards her mother’s room. “Can you promise me one thing?” He nodded, urging her to continue. “Take care of Claire.” He furrowed his brow. “She’s not going to be feeling very good today, most likely.”

He chuckled, nodding. “Alright. I can take care of her.” 

“Thank you,” Brianna replied with a smile. “And I need you to do one other thing.” 

“What’s that?” 

“Never mention me to her.” Jamie looked confused. “I know it doesn’t make sense, but please don’t remind her that she met me. One day it will all be clear, but please don’t.” 

Jamie still seemed confused by Brianna’s request, but nonetheless, he nodded. “Aye, I promise.” 

“Thank you,” she said with a small bow of her head. “I’ll be going now.” She stopped at the door and looked back at him. “It was a true pleasure to meet you.” Without waiting for his response, she turned and walked out the door, ready to go find her parents again. 

* * *

**1769**

Brianna sat staring at both her parents. It had been months since she’d seen their younger versions. She tried to note the way they’d changed in 20 years. They were moving about their small cabin, trying to make things ready for their dinner. Neither of them had been able to believe their daughter had shown up in the 18th century. Apparently getting Claire blind drunk had done the trick. 

Bree watched as they moved around each other, a comfortability she’d never seen between her mother and Frank. As her mother spoke to her, excitedly sharing about their lives on The Ridge, Brianna felt relieved that nothing seemed to have been altered by her trip even further to the past. 

It would take some time for Brianna to get to know her father. The accidental meeting of him as a younger man made her more excited to get to know him now. How had that man become the man who gave up everything to protect his wife and child? 

Claire mentioned needing something from outside in the shed. She laid a hand gently on Jamie’s cheek, smiling at him. Before walking out the door, she also planted a kiss on the top of Brianna’s head. “I’ll be right back,” she promised. 

Jamie and Bree both watched her leave before turning to appraise the other. “Thank you for keeping my promise,” Brianna spoke first. 

Jamie looked incredibly confused. “Yer promise? Whatever do ye mean, lass?” 

Bree grinned to herself. “Do you remember a night in 1743 when you and Mama were out with the rent party? You stopped in a tavern to stay the night and for Dougal to give some impassioned speech. There was a young woman there who looked a staggering amount like you and answered to the name Fraser.” 

Jamie’s face slackened as a look of awe and realization bloomed. He walked over and sat down in a chair across from her at the table. 

“The morning after, she was trying to sneak out unseen but you stopped her and offered her provisions for the road,” Brianna continued. “And she made you promise to take care of Claire.” 

“Aye,” he whispered. He stared at her, disbelief clear on his face. “Brianna, that was ye?” 

She nodded, a smile widening. “It took me a bit longer to get here than I originally planned,” she admitted. “But I don’t think Mama remembers.” 

Jamie breathed out a watery laugh. “No, I dinna think she does. In all the times she’s spoken of ye, she’s never mentioned meeting ye before we were even marrit.” 

“Yeah, it would have been a lot easier to lie to her if you guys had been married already,” Bree laughed. 

Jamie reached out and hesitantly took her hand. “Twas an easy promise to keep,” he answered her original statement. “Perhaps the easiest promise I’ve ever kept.” 

“I can see that,” Bree confessed. 

Jamie took a deep breath. “If ye’d be alright wi’ it, I’d like to include ye in that promise as well,  _ a leannan _ .”

Brianna felt slightly choked up. She squeezed his hand slightly. “I think that would be fine.” 

Claire walked back into the cabin and froze at the sight of them. She smiled brightly, walking forward and grabbing their clasped hands. Planting a kiss on each of their hands, she shared a look with both of them before going back to preparing dinner. 

The moment had ended and Jamie stood to assist his wife again. Brianna sat and watched them, wondering if this is what her life would have been like if she’d spilled to her mother 20 years earlier that her father would survive the Rising. 

There was no way to know for sure. But Brianna did finally know for sure that her mother was happy. And that made all the difference. 


End file.
